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“Then why not give it away?”
“Isn’t that what I’m doing right now?” He glanced between the two of them. “Which of you will it be? Who’s going to be the lucky person pulling my strings?”
“The Brumal throne has always belonged to the Snow family,” Wren said absently.
“Even a few dozen of your best soldiers won’t stand a chance against Isa Frost.” Altz rested his chin on his palm. “I want you.”
“Wasn’t that already worked into the agreement?” Wren asked, pretending not to understand when they all did.
“Only another Shout stands a chance against him,” Altz explained anyway. “Since you’ll be bedding me anyway, it makes the most sense that you’re the one who stays with me.”
“I don’t stand a chance against Frost.”
“No, but you’ll be able to fend him off long enough for Dominus Snow to arrive and save the day. Between the two of you, I’m sure you’ll be able to keep me alive should Frost come for me. And if you perish trying to do so before Snow can make it? Well, I’ll swear an oath now not to break our agreement should that be the unfortunate case.”
Altz may want Wren’s body, but it was obvious from that statement he had no true feelings for him. He wanted protection and a warm bed and enough riches to keep him satiated and that was all.
Wren didn’t seem the least bit offended however. “I have a Brumal and a business to run, majesty. If we’re going to do things your way, I’ll need a space in the palace to occupy where I can work while I’m…” his gaze trailed pointedly down to where Altz’s body was hidden beneath the desk, “staying with you.”
“Done.” He waved his hand. “There are hundreds of unused rooms in the palace. You can take as many as you like. So long as you take me in each and every one first.”
Odin couldn’t help it, he laughed, but when the Emperor turned to him, clapped to show it wasn’t an insult. “That’s a good one.”
“Of course the King of the Red Light District would appreciate my humor.” Altz seemed pleased. “Any other conditions, gentlemen?”
“I have some deals in the works,” Odin said. “Property deals. I need it ensured they go through without a hitch.”
“Stealing are we?” Altz nodded. “That won’t be a problem. We’re all aware how Sanctum is run. Laws are merely a suggestion. If you want something, I’ll help you take it since you’re helping me to do the same.”
“Did you inform Isa of this meeting?”
“I did not.”
“That was a gamble.”
Altz stood, reaching for the ties of the royal robe he was wearing, a silky black and green with swirling details done in gold thread. Though he’d been born on Sanctum, his mother had originally hailed from another planet in a different galaxy. It’d been her greatest misfortune to end up here, where she’d caught the eye of the then emperor. As soon as Altz father had died, he’d begun working in more and more of his mother’s cultural customs into his life, and the style of dress was one of them.
He slipped the material down his left arm, baring half his chest and his shoulder to them. His skin was blistered and red, some areas worse than others, and he winced when even the light silk stroked against one of the injuries.
“He tortures you.” Odin recognized the mild frostbite for what it was.
“He likes to use his power on me, yes,” Altz confirmed. “This is nothing. At least these marks will eventually heal. I know what you think of me, Dominus Snow. I am not an intelligent man. I only want to live comfortably, stress free. When Isa first came to me, he made promises I foolishly believed he would keep. My idiocy cost me. I won’t make the same mistake again.”
Odin bristled. “Meaning?”
“You mentioned my giving up the throne, Dominus Shen,” Altz readjusted his clothing and eased back into his chair as he spoke. “I imagine it’d be much more agreeable to control a child than it would be a full grown man.”
The next person in line for the throne was his eleven year old sister. The original heir to the throne had died young and suddenly, leaving Altz forced to take his place once their father passed. Out of the three children, none had been of age when that had finally happened, but at least Altz had been sixteen. At eleven his sister would be easily manipulated.
“Taking care of children isn’t really an interest of ours,” Odin said, and he meant that in more than one way. They may be mafia, but he drew the line at harming children. He couldn’t say the same for Isa, of course, but knew that at least Wren shared this same ideal.
Wren more so actually.
“That’s great then,” Altz smiled but there was something off about it now, “since there’s no longer a child that needs caring for.”
Odin felt Wren tense at his side, but he got a hold of himself quickly and a glance at the Emperor showed he hadn’t seemed to notice. “Meaning?”
“It’s as I’ve said. I won’t be making the same mistake twice, and Isa never missed an opportunity to remind me just how expendable I actually am. Now that’s no longer the case. I’m the only surviving member of my bloodline, and therefore the only one who can legally have the throne. Which means,” his grin broadened, “it’s going to be a pleasure doing business with you, gentlemen.”
